


To Those that Remain

by OwlExpress



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blacks don't like Voldemort, Canon Compliant, F/M, Sane Bellatrix Black Lestrange, slow build mwahaha, young bellatrix black
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-22 00:12:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14925671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlExpress/pseuds/OwlExpress
Summary: A Death Eaters origin story, starting from when Bellatrix first met the Dark Lord. And in a different time Delphini finds out her true parentage and a book reveals the unbiased, unabridged history of The Dark Lord and his Death Eaters.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my very first attempt at fanfic writing, and I shall do it in the name of the only ship I shipped that sailed. Do tell me if there's anything I can improve on. Enjoooy!

Year 2019

            It was another day of rain in London, people who had forgotten to bring their umbrella sought refuge in the cafés, novelty stores, and even the rarely visited library itself. Getting rather weary from the sudden obnoxious surge of people, a young woman, not a day older than 21 but also not as juvenile looking to be a student still, closed the book she was reading and slid past the bookshelves until she found the corner most side of the library. A little dark spot others would think haunted, with a simple wooden chair and desk greyed with dust that faced a blank white wall hidden in the shadows. She took the seat and set her book open once more.

            “Cave Inimicum,” the woman chanted under her breath the protective charm. Other than that muggles repulsed her, she could not take chance for a wizard or witch to discover her. _No_ , says Madame Rosier, _You’ll be exiled to Azkaban just like your mother, be killed just like your father._

They are now in a time that reading such a book, even just being able to see it, is an open affirmation that she is of a magic blood. Ever since the death of the Dark Lord, the repugnant blood traitors and mudbloods have assimilated life with muggles with fervour more intense than ever. They have started sharing facilities, putting Disillusioned magic books, to appear as a muggle book before a muggle’s eyes, in a muggle library, just because they so love staying with them.

 

_The Demise of Voldemort_

  
  
_Immediately after the Duel, and the Dark Lord’s death due to his own rebounded Curse, ending the Battle of Hogwarts and the Second Wizarding War on 2nd of May 1998 were joyous celebrations._

  
_A crowd of Harry's supporters then moved Voldemort's corpse into a chamber separate from the Great Hall where the Duel had occurred. This was done out of memory of Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Fred Weasley, Colin Creevey, and another fifty causalities of the Battle._

  
_It is unknown if this became the final resting place of the Dark Lord, or if his body was later moved to another location. It is also unknown where exactly the chamber was, save for the fact that it was located outside the Great Hall and that his inscription read TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE, his birth name only known to few others and Harry Potter then._

 

            She scrunched the page in barely controlled rage. _How dare they address him with that muggle name! Only the Dark Lord could be so powerfully able to fashion himself into a whole different being, and yet they do this to besmirch his eminence in the eyes of the next generation._

The next hour or so was spent finishing the remaining 153 pages of the book. Despite the demeaning underlying tone, she commended it for a good timeline, but it is obvious the author had only gathered content through hearsay. Nothing new that anybody else didn't know from other Magic History books. With a sigh she went out of the borders of her charm to go look for another book, one that actually talked about his genius and prowess. Suddenly aware of her poor reading posture, she craned her neck to the side. And then she saw an old man, standing oddly at the opposite end of the book shelves. _A homeless old man_ , she thought. He was wearing a ragged overcoat, and a striped black and white shirt underneath. He was staring right at her, and she found her head hurt.

            “You are indeed their heir,” said the man who was now suddenly mere feet away from her. She gasped in horror. Her instinct to run was halted by the man’s grab on her wrist. His fingernails were gritty and chipped as though they had been clawing. “Listen to me now, girl. There’s no time to waste.” The man hurriedly pushed them back to her enchanted corner. The woman started to struggle but her screams were muffled to the outside by the charm she made. The man grabbed her by the arms, and spoke in hurried short sentences. “Whispers are going around. Theodore Nott made a Time Turner. Find him and fulfill your prophecy.” And when he was done talking, there was a visible relief on his features; even his hold on her became loose.

            “Get your filthy hands off me,” the woman hissed, every words dripping with poison. He immediately did, but she could feel him eyeing her from head to toe. She was not unnerved; in fact behind her her fingers were weaving spells.

            “Spare the hair; you have taken after the extremes of your parents, _Delphini,_ ” he said nonchalantly.

            “How do you know my name?” Delphini was taken aback. For all her life was spent hiding from the ministry and society spare Madame Rosier. “And what of my parents? _Who_ are you?”

            “Forgive my rudeness; years in Azkaban will do that to you. I am Rodolphus Lestrange, the widower of your mother, Bellatrix,” he said as if snapping back to sanity.

            “My mother --Bellatrix? Then you mean you’re my father?” she began to laugh. _Maybe he is an asylum escapee after all._ Although deep in her she knew, she would have latched onto him, desperate to believe she has a family, if only the names he gave weren’t so fabricated.

            “Salazar no! Do you not know anything?” he said incredulously. Seeing the confusion so obviously written on Delphini’s face, Rodolphus continued in a more composed manner “They kept you in the dark, didn't they? Tell me child, why then do you read such books?”

            “It’s allowed.” She answered defensively.

            “20 years since his demise, what could ever pique a fair young lady to root for the Dark Lord, a gory man with such interest?” he said as he took a glance on the scrunched pages of the book left on the desk.

            “He’s not _gory,_ nor a _man.”_ Delphini defended, her eyes narrowing.

            “Accio” he said and from the 3rd shelf to his right an evergreen leather bound book pulled itself out and flew to his waiting hand. He pushed it into hers saying “This is the one you ought to read.”

            She examined the book cautiously; it didn’t have a title on the front nor on the side. She could feel her heart beating. She could hear quiet whispers; she looked around if her protective charms had died but it is still intact. “Who’s talking?”

            “You understand what _it_ says,” he stated more than asked “When I hold the Dark Lord’s book all I hear are hisses.” there was a pregnant pause between them, “I cannot stay for long,” Rodolphus sighed “the Ministry is looking for me as we speak. I must find Theodore Nott. It’s a rumour but it is still hope. I tried looking for him but the old guy is as slick as an eel hiding in the muds. And I might be found before I find him.”

            “Then take me with you,” Delphini implored.

            “No. Your anonymity is our advantage.” They both held their breaths when they heard footsteps nearing until the sound stopped and turned the other way. “I really must go now. All the answers you are looking for is in there.” Rodohlphus gave a sad smile, the lines on his face even more emphasized but at the same time Delphini thought it brightened. “You grew up real well and beautiful, they would've been delighted.”

            Delphini listened to his last words as it grew fainter and watched his figure hurled to the right into a vortex of black smoke. For awhile she just stood there on the spot, processing what had just happened. Her attention was brought back to the book as she felt its remote burning between her fingers. She set it on the table, blew off the layer of dust from its cover, and slowly flipped it open.

            It was a blank. All of it.

            Had she been fooled by a lunatic? “What is this?” she asked aloud, unbeknownst to her the words she spoke sounded akin to hisses. Slowly black ink surfaced from within the page and words started to show themselves on the page:

_The chronicles of he who took flight from death and those who took a bite._


	2. The Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Voldemort returns from the Continent and pays his alma mater a visit

December 1966

Voldemort found himself walking the familiar corridors of his alma mater among its students once more. Only now, he did not adorn the same compulsory robes but instead a long black cloak that parts slightly in the middle as he walk, revealing a green tie and dark grey waistcoat underneath.

The way the students’ steps would go amiss when they see him coming gave away what they thought. Curious from the Ravenclaws, scared from the Hufflepuffs, and of course, suspicious from the Gryffindors. And then there was that interesting group from Slytherin.

Three girls with aristocratic features, strong jaws and hooded eyes, really a group of fair maidens. They resembled each other, but he could distinctly the differ their persons without going into their minds. While the younger two, the blonde and the brunette, diverted their gaze, the one with the unruly black hair braved an eye contact with him, accident or not, before looking further down to his green necktie and gave a quick nod. It made him court a small smile. She figured the meaning of his tie, a subtle homage to his house.

 _What a pity._ He could have been their Defense Against Dark Arts professor next term if it wasn’t for Dumbledore. Of course, he had expected the old wizard to brim with suspicion about his motives, he would be disappointed had he not, but Dumbledore was mistaken. Despite Voldemort’s ulterior motives, he did see the importance of parting knowledge to young minds.

 

_“Tom.” Dumbledore greeted. The heavy double doors to his office closed with a solemn creak that declares antiquity and a man dressed in simple black robes came in, stopping a few steps shy of the hardwood desk. He did not need to turn to know who it was; he had seen Voldemort cross the castle grounds as he peered down from his office bay window. Dumbledore observed him, discreetly appraising what was once well sculpted features now on a closer look looked burned and blurred and what was once piercing blue irises now sinister. At once he knew the man before him is no longer Tom Riddle. “It has been a while since… well, since Britain has seen of you.”_

_Ten years. For ten years he wandered all over Europe, acquainting himself with the secrets of the Dark Arts. And alas, Tom Riddle is gone and born is Lord Voldemort. But he will humor his old teacher with his old name “Working for Borgin and Burkes has reached its satisfaction, I thought I’d have a change of scenery.” Tom said with a warm smile other would mistake coming from an old friend, except Dumbledore._

_“I’m sure you’re travellings were most interesting,” Dumbledore said meeting Tom’s eyes. “What reason did I deserve a visit, must be important to send you back to old Hogwarts?” The two wizards new the underlying meaning to the professor’s words._

_With that, Tom pulled out a neatly folded parchment from his briefcase and set it afloat with an unspoken charm until it reached his table. “I thought of sending an owl first but I’d rather hear your response in person, Professor.”_

_It was an application letter for Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position. Dumbledore was quiet for a while. “If it is the Dark Arts, indeed you are most exceptional. But I’m afraid your...” Dumbledore held himself for a more delicate word “priorities are somewhere else.”_

_“Ten years ago when I applied, Headmaster Dippet told me I was too young. And so I hones my skills until you yourself acknowledge I’m the best in Dark Arts, and yet you wouldn’t accept?” Voldemort started to pace around the office “You’re forcing me to believe Sir, you’re prejudiced against me.”_

_“No, Tom. I’m not prejudiced against you. You don’t really want to teach children, do you Tom when there’s a big world out there to explore?” Dumbledore appealed._

_There he goes again. Dumbledore has a way of speaking as though he was only coming from good intentions but it all dripped with condescension. As though he knew me but always with cynicism. Ever since I made the fault to show him my real side that first day. Voldemort raked his hand through his hair, in a show of upset. “I thought you knew me, Professor. Hogwarts is the only place I’ve ever felt a connection to… home, maybe.”_

_“If I were to go to the Hog’s Head tonight, I would not find a group of them—Nott, Rosier, Mulciber, Dolohov—awaiting your return? Devoted friends indeed, to travel this far with you on a snowy night, merely to wish you luck as you attempted to secure a teaching post.”_

_He expected this kind of response from Dumbledore, he expected it all from him._

 

What Dumbledore thought is inconsequential now, he shall proceed with his plans, perhaps earlier than he first thought. Voldemort’s walking came to a stop in front of a wall on the 7th floor of the castle. He looked back. After seeing that the  hall behind is empty, he then proceeded to pace the length of the wall as though lost in thought, to and fro, and on the third pass huge double doors emerged from the surface of the wall.

The Room of Requirements, the room that only reveals itself to a person with the real need of it. Just like when he was a student, it alters itself into whatever he might need. He entered the room, it was filled with all sorts of belongings, knickknacks, and furnitures filled the room, depreciated and forgotten.

From the inside pocket of his jacket he retrieved a diadem with an oval sapphire gem in the middle. His feet rose from the ground and he _flew_ to the highest pile of trash in the room. A magic he mastered from his journey in the Continent. There he learned magic to its most original form. He learned the formation and foundation of magic before it was abridged by school curriculums.

Hogwarts,  the only place he would ever consider home if he had to say so,  there was a right feeling in leaving parts of his soul here and a pleasure to know it’s right under Dumbledore’s nose. He left the castle grounds, but not before giving a sardonic smile to the person he knew was standing behind the frosty window glass on the highest castle tower. His old professor could think whatever he wants, but to be rejected twice is unacceptable to Lord Voldemort. _Let it be that the position for DADA be a difficulty._

Meanwhile, in Hog’s Head pub, Nott, Rosier, Mulciber, and Doloho _v_ waited for their master’s return, anxious to hear the end decision of Dumbledore. Rosier heard soughing sound of the wind and his head perked up just in time to see their master swing the pub’s door open. They all readily stood up to greet him.

“I did not get the job. Dumbledore, well, you know how he is.” Voldemort informed them, “I feel bad for your efforts in rallying support for me in this cold weather.”

“Dumbledore does not understand his loss, My Lo-- Tom,” Nott stopped himself from saying the honorifics, they had come here in guise of friendly support to _Tom Riddle_.

“There’s no need for that, when Dumbledore has his friendly bar man feeding him news, am I right Aberforth?” Voldemort observed the big bar man go rigid who until now has his back to them. With a flick of his hand a wand, which he knew Aberforth was reaching for underneath his tunic, flung. “No need to be frisky, just five fire whiskeys will do.” Voldemort set the wand on the table and he took a seat beside his followers.

Aberforth reached for four shot glasses and filled it with the amber liquid. As he turned, Voldemort’s followers gasped realizing how much he resembled Dumbledore. How had they not notice? Dumbledore the Transfiguration professor of course. Aberforth went around the bar, more of the transfiguration effects come undone by the second, he placed the tray on their table. Without his wand Aberforth had to come around the table personally.

“Your life in exchange for these,” Voldemort said waving a hand over the glasses, “doesn’t say much about your value does it?” His followers were silent, in the short time that they had been with him since his return they had learned the lengths his rage could go. The poison his words could carry. They aren’t even sure now if they were reunited with Tom Riddle or were they introduced to Lord Voldemort. “As much as Hog’s Head gives nice ale, I’m afraid this will be the of our last friendly visits. When you see your beloved brother later, send him my regards for the Defence Against Dark Arts position.” Voldemort took a glass, but he just stared at it for a moment and tapped on the rim and decided to offer the drink Aberforth instead. “Go on, have a drink. You didn’t poison it, did you?”

With a huff, Aberforth took it. And swig it. “Satisfied? I wouldn’t go d-” Aberforth didn’t finish what he mean to say, his eyes bulged, his face turned pink, his hands clawed at his throat, he fell down to his knees heaving.

“But I did,” Voldemort whispered as he slid Aberforth’s wand back to its rightful owner with a smile. Voldemort motioned for Nott, Rosier, Mulciber, Dolohov to take a glass each.“To Hogwarts,” he said as they raised their glasses.

His four followers shut their eyes as they felt the liquid trickle down their throat, waiting for the same aftermath as Aberforth Dumbledore, but nothing happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there yay! I thought I'd be able to post up to Chapter 3 today but it seems I left bunch of draft dialogues and forgot to finalize them. Updates will be up tomorrow :D


	3. The Noble and Most Ancient

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for delayed update! Internet was down for a couple of days. But better late than never, right eh? I've always thought that the elder Blacks would have trouble following Lord V, especially because they treat themselves the purest of the purebloods.

It was the week before Christmas and most Hogwarts students made their way to leave for the holidays. The Black Sisters -- Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa, walked alongside each other, holding a suitcase each.

Students normally keep Slytherins at an arm’s length, and them to a greater degree. The Blacks are known for their cruel especially the eldest. Bellatrix didn’t mind, she actually quite liked that she induces fear and she didn’t have to accidentally make contact with a mudblood in narrow corridors. However she noticed the crowd part way with the same gusto they do to them for a singularity coming their way.

Far ahead she could see a strange looking man. Is he a professor? He seemed to belong here as much as he did not. Bellatrix was too entranced with something emanating off him, barely noticing the moment they were side to side. Red. For the briefest second they made eye contact she swore they flashed red. She felt she could drown in those eyes, it was too immense a feeling to stay, she broke it off, and diverted her gaze down and there she saw his green tie. Oh. She tipped her head. The man’s lip curled very slightly, she couldn’t tell if it was a smile. Her head turned as he passed her by, and she stopped on her tracks, watching the man until he was out of sight.

“Bella?” She heard the much smaller blonde girl to her right call, “Do you know him?”

The wavy brown haired on her other side interjected, “I don't know, but he's sinister. I could feel it.”

“Oh Andy, you scare so easy. That’s not how you treat someone from your house; the man is a fellow Slytherin.” her two sisters seemed confused how she could have known that, Bellatrix pointed to her neck tie.

 

They aboard the Hogwarts Express. Bellatrix used the levitating charm to put her luggage on the compartment, then her sister’s Andromeda, then she turned expecting a third luggage but there was none.

“Where’s Cissy?” asked Bella.

“She’s at the other coach, saying goodbye to dear Lucius.”

The two sisters looked at each other and darted toward the coach’s door, only the top of their heads peeking through. snickered as they spy their youngest two coaches away, hands clutched by the Malfoy boy on his heart.

“Oh, Cissy, I doth not think I can bear to live a single breath without you.” Andromeda said in her best squeaky 13-year-old-boy voice.

“Lucius!” Bella exclaimed in a dramatic faint voice “We shall make a good match of blinding gold hair.”

“Yes! Yes! We’ll make lots of galleons selling them in Knockturn Alley for old wizards.” “Forever?”

“Forever and ever,” Andy said as she made act as if fainting.

Andromeda and Bellatrix had to cover their mouth from laughing, but their shaking body shaking says otherwise. Suddenly, Narcissa whipped to their direction. And the two older sisters scampered back to their seats, barely had anything to pretend doing before the coach door opened again with a red faced Narcissa. She watched as Andromeda and Bellatrix tried their best to hold a stoic face.

“You’re book’s upside down, Bella.” Narcissa said simply, and then they all burst into laughing.

The train arrived at King’s Cross Station a little after 5 in the afternoon.

“Mother!” cried Narcissa, as she ran to Druella.

“How was first year?” the older sisters heard their mother asked Narcissa, Andromeda couldn’t help but tease Cissy a little more,

“Cissy got a boyfriend~” Andy said in a sing-song voice.

Druella kissed Andromeda on the forehead. “Oh did she?” their mother asked with an inquisitorial look.

“Don’t worry Mum, it’s just Malfoy. And I’m keeping an eye on them.” Bellatrix said.

“All is well then.” Druella smiled as she patted Bellatrix’s head. She leaned closer but what Bellatrix thought was going to be a kiss was her mother’s discreet pulling of hair. “Why can’t you ever clean up better?” her mother whispered to her ear. Bellatrix was used to this Druella, she would have had a smart comeback to her mother if her attentions weren’t rather divided as she spot her father, Cygnus, talking with a group of men a few feet away from them. She noted the sleek blond hair is surely a Malfoy, Abraxas Malfoy, and another pureblood she knew from social gatherings as Mr. LeStrange.

“Girls!” Cygnus cried as he finally joined them. “I missed you all dearly...” Cygnus said, his eyes glancing to the side Malfoy and LeStrange passed by. “How about we have a little family reunion with your cousins, a sleepover even? Hm?” he said as he tried to fit his three daughters in one embrace. Druella didn’t say anything, but her face did convey she was discomfited.

Bellatrix and Andromeda with Cygnus and Narcissa with Druella, they went straight to the 12 Grimmauld Place by Apparition and Side-Along. Bella immediately let go of her father’s arm to comfort Cissy, she knew still wasn’t used to this method of traveling, also Druella’s far from great Apparating skills didn’t help. Cissy leaned on Bella, saying she's fine but just seconds later she was retching. Andromeda was already making way towards the house. Kreacher, the house-elf opened the door, and his voice echoed through the narrow townhouse. When the rest of them finally caught up with Andromeda, Orion Black, their uncle and next family head, was waiting for them by the foyer.

"Cygnus, I'm glad you could make it." Orion said, but Cygnus found it hard to reply and instead gave his brother a hug.

"Go on girls, the adults have some catching up to do." Druella said. Bella and Cissy curtsied to their uncle before excusing themselves.

From the stairs, a boy's loud laughing could be heard. "Look Andy, don't Reggie look pretty?"

"Stop-- it-- Sirius!" Andy managed to say in between laughs. Bella and Cissy's eyes bugged out when they saw the object of their laughter. Sirius was in the act of putting a tiny yellow lady's hat on their 7 year old cousin, Regulus, dressed in an oversized yellow t-shirt, with a belt on the waist that made it look like a dress. Reggie did look cute, almost like Bella when she was the same age.

"Reggie, you look like a girl." Cissy gushed, it wasn't her intention to make Regulus cry -it's just cute things are her weakness."Oh no. I didn't mean it that way, I'm sorry." but the boy was already tugging Kreacher out the room, saying he'll keep the snacks between the two them. When Cissy turned to her sisters, she too was on verge of crying.

The rest of the afternoon was spent on making up with Reggie, before he tells their parents. Good thing with little kids, they forget easy. They didn't see their parents until supper, and every now and then Bellatrix would notice her father forcing a smile that never stays long. The same goes with her mother, Uncle Orion and Aunt Walburga.

 

By night, Bellatrix found herself wide awake, her mind keeps replaying the events on the station. She watched Andy and Cissy deep in their sleep; after awhile of tossing and turning she decided to have a walk, a night cap maybe to get herself sleepy. When she opened the door to her room, she bumped on something. The corridors were dark, so she lighted her wand, it was Sirius.

"Turn back," he said.

"I'm not some thief to guard."

"They're at a meeting again, more frequently now..." He said as if a visual shiver went down his spine. "I wouldn't want to have anything about it if I were you." But his warning only implored Bellatrix's curiosity.

"Don't worry dear cousin. I'll be quiet as a mice." She said putting a finger across her curtly smiling lips and tapped him on the shoulders before brushing past him.

She reached the stair banister, she heard the echoes of a heavy door creak when swung from below, she could not make out the exact words said but it sounded someone came in late. The ground floor was lit by a sliver of light spilling from an ajar door of the room to the left of the grand entrance. Not enough to ignite the fiery hues of the rugs, but enough to see the silhouette of the steps on the grand staircase. She slowly walked down, the voices becoming clearer and clearer.

"My Lord, if it is onto muggles, it seems an easy enough task for my son. Please let me send Lucius in my stead, I offer him to you."

"So do I. Have Rodolphus and Regulus at your arms, my lord" Of course the old LeStrange wouldn't let himself be outdone, Bellatrix thought.

"My Lord, if only my sons were a few years older to have wands they would have been great for you." Her Uncle Orion’s voice said. Although she didn’t know what matters were being discussed, she knew this much: other pureblood heads started to enlist their sons, except for the Blacks. What an embarrassment.

"I do not discriminate," the man’s voice they all called their ‘Lord’ finally spoke. It was cool and smooth, Bellatrix thought distantly as she tiptoed to the door.“As I recall you have nieces.”

"But what can those puny little girls do? All they’re good for is twirl around in front of the mirrors." Cygnus answered.

Bellatrix chewed on her cheek. She couldn’t believe the words her father uttered about them. That's Cissy, even Andy, but not me! She resolved to confront her father and make him take it back. But as soon as she took a step in front of the opening, the heavy doors slammed shut on her face. And then she couldn't hear anything anymore. She dropped down to her knees to peek through the underside of the door, her temples touching the floor, but not even light would escape the little gap between the wood and marble.

Instead of going back to her room, she went to the study, she definitely couldn’t sleep now. She paced back and forth, fuming with how her father viewed her and her sisters. The Blacks! The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black has no one to present except for our elderly fathers… and yet they would opt to send twats Sirius and Regulus. Her internal monologue was interrupted when she heard the doorknob click, immediately she hid beneath a desk and listened to who it was.

“I refuse to follow him! He’s just a--” she heard her father’s voice said, but Orion jumped to cover his younger brother’s mouth, almost assaultingly. Cygnus nodded his head and Orion let him go.

“Do the others know what the Dark Lord is?”

“I suppose some of them do. But if the most fearsome wizard, whatever he is, offers to rally for your very cause, you’d shut your mouth about it wouldn’t you?”

“A bunch of scared purebloods they are, cowering behind some unknown wizard; but had it been at least someone like Gellert Grindelwald’s degree.”

“He was there during my time in Hogwarts, a few years ahead.” Orion started, he felt that Cygnus didn’t understand the magnitude the Dark Lord can do. “A scary beast. He was too perfect…” Orion trailed off as he remember that warm smiles he received from the Head Boy Tom Riddle he admired, idolized even, and realizing now all those were cultured. “When the news of Hepzibah Smith’s murder happened, and suddenly he was gone… a part of me knew it was him who did it.” Cygnus gave a shocked expression but didn’t say anything. “But for the greater part, I was immensely relieved that he’s gone. I thought maybe there is still some remorse left with him and he fled in guilt, but it turns out he was just conquering Dark Magic.”

“Conquer he did. Do you see him? Magic oozes now from his mere presence. This is different than the time of Knights of Walpurgis. He… he will suck us dry. I know it. He will pawn us and then he’ll put himself king. That’s why we can’t let him rise to power.”

“We’re no better are we?” Orion said in a sad smile. “Anyhow, I can’t hold long my sons from joining him. In a few years Sirius will attend hogwarts, and what excuse then can I make?”

“And I would not bend the family traditions just to give him my daughters.”

“Why not father?” Bellatrix finally got up from her hiding place. The two men stilled as though they were hit by Stupefy.

“Bella--” her father walked towards her. “What did you hear?”

“Answer me father. What is it Sirius can do that I can’t? Who is this ‘my Lord’? What is he?” Bellatrix said, standing her ground.

Cygnus looked solemnly back to his brother and then to his eldest daughter, “Because we are the House of Black. And we follow no mud blood.”

And Bellatrix saw the moment her father raised his wand a second before a flash of white light from its tip blinded her.

**Author's Note:**

> So there! How did I do? I'd love to read your reviews <3 Hopefully I can finish editing the next two chapters by Friday and I'll post it asap


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